More from the underbelly of the deli. This time, Mario pays a porky salute to prosciutto and some of its European cousins. Heck, he even took the picture!
I'm back again - and no I didn't have a coronary after all those sausages. In fact, I went back for more...and I had the best of intentions in continuing with my sausage seminars, but I got sidetracked by some other porky, yet admittedly tasty products. The temptress/tempter I speak of is prosciutto and, as I learned, its numerous and far flung cousins.
Starting off with the real deal, Italian prosciutto, I admittedly went into this whole experience relatively blind and knowing only that I really liked these cured beauties, but not understanding much beyond that. I was a willing student, and in the capable hands of Odysseas Gounalakis of Scheffler's Delicatessen & Cheese in the St. Lawrence Market (93 Front Street East in Toronto), I found a willing and knowledgeable teacher. It all started quite unexpectedly - I asked for prosciutto and he said which one. "Ummm- Italian" was the response. "Which one?" was once again the question. "Ummm...[glance at label and confidently] 12 month". Pause. A knowing smile. "Which one?"
I gave up, knowing I was out-porked at the great ham quiz. Odysseas then proceeded to explain to me, in amongst various "try this, try that's", the difference between the varieties I was looking at. The San Daniele was slightly less salty than the Parma, because the Parma porkers were fed with the rinds of Parmesan cheeses. However, both of these were softer, less salty and more subtle than the Canadian prosciutto he offered me, and he put that down to economics and farming style. It seems that Canadian pigs are raised till about 100 lbs, after which they start, literally, eating into the farmer's profits. In Italy, however, the porkers go upwards of 300 lbs, meaning that the hams can be cured for longer periods of time and remain softer due to the higher fat content. Interesting, no? Interesting yes! And that was only the start.
I then moved onto my personal favourite, the Serrano (or mountain) ham of Spain. When I asked my newly-found mentor why it was difficult to find these in Canada, he dryly responded that I had found them, hadn't I? How do you argue with that logic? The version I tried was manufactured by the Campofrio company out of Burgos, in northern Spain. These beauties are generally cured for about 14 months and are slightly drier than the Italian prosciutto, but have a distinct earthy-nutty taste, apparently emanating from the chestnuts upon which the pigs feast. Topped off with a slight touch of paprika, this style of ham quickly became a favourite of mine since they became available in Canada (though they do remain a little harder to find). But I found it, didn't I?
Leaving Spain for a little while (in a culinary, if not geographical sense), I headed over to French territory for a new find - the French Bayonne ham (this one was the Maritchu brand). This Basque-region ham is strictly regulated and has to be made with organic pork obtained from one of eight clearly defined breeds. It is very similar to prosciutto but is slightly smoked and also has a very faint tang due to the Piment d'Esplette (a traditional Basque chili that now enjoys protected name status, much like champagne) rubbed into the skin at some stage in the curing process. These hams must be a minimum of 7 months old, and in order to verify that you are about to experience the real deal, ask to see the leg of ham and look for the traditional "Croix Basque" stamp topped with the name Bayonne.
And there it is my friend - I hope you enjoyed this latest missive and, to avoid breaking my promises on future content, I simply won't make any. Except to promise that when I write again, it's going to be tasty. And that's a promise you can count on!
Want more? Check out Jackie Church's Artisanal Culatello article.